Walking by Faith: Mary, Sister of Martha – Sitting Before Serving

The house was buzzing with activity. Guests had arrived. Food needed preparing.

Schedules were tight. Expectations were high. 

Martha was in the kitchen, doing everything she could to serve Jesus. But her sister Mary had chosen something different. While Martha labored, Mary sat—quietly and attentively—at the feet of the Lord. 

To Martha, it looked like laziness. To Jesus, it looked like faith. 

Mary’s story challenges our assumptions about what obedience looks like.

Sometimes, the most faithful thing we can do is not to get busy—but to be still. In a world obsessed with doing, Mary reminds us that walking by faith begins with listening. 

Welcoming Jesus Into Her Home 

Luke 10 tells the story of two sisters and one unexpected visit from Jesus. Martha welcomed Him into her home—no small thing, considering His fame and the controversy surrounding Him. Hosting a rabbi was an honor. And Martha took the responsibility seriously.

She wanted things to be right. Clean house. Good food. Orderly environment. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. In fact, her actions were motivated by devotion. But somewhere in her service, her focus shifted. 

She became distracted by the work and irritated with her sister. 

“Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me” (Luke 10:40). 

It’s a moment every believer has felt. We begin serving with joy—but end up feeling stressed, resentful, or unnoticed. We want help. We want recognition. We want results. 

But Jesus doesn’t rebuke Mary. He gently redirects Martha. 

The One Thing That’s Necessary 

“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary” (Luke 10:41–42). 

Jesus wasn’t minimizing Martha’s work. He was clarifying priorities. Martha’s distractions weren’t sinful. But they were crowding out the greater thing: being with Jesus. 

Mary had chosen to sit at His feet—a posture of humility, attentiveness, and discipleship. In doing so, she was breaking cultural norms. In that time, women were not typically welcomed into the position of a disciple. But Jesus affirmed her choice. 

“Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her” (v. 42). 

In that moment, presence took precedence over productivity. Relationship mattered more than results. And worship trumped work. 

Faith That Listens First 

Mary’s story doesn’t end in Luke 10. She appears again in John 11—at the tomb of her brother Lazarus—and in John 12, anointing Jesus’ feet with perfume. 

In each instance, she is found at Jesus’ feet. 

In grief, she fell at His feet (John 11:32). In worship, she poured out costly oil and wiped His feet with her hair (John 12:3). Her posture never changed—because her heart had been formed in that early moment of sitting and listening. 

Faith that begins with listening becomes faith that endures through loss and gives extravagantly in love. 

What Mary’s Journey Means for Ours 

We live in a Martha world—one that values hustle, productivity, and performance. Even in the church, it’s easy to equate spiritual maturity with busyness: how much you serve, lead, attend, or accomplish. 

But Mary reminds us that faith isn’t measured by our output. It’s rooted in our relationship with Christ. 

You may feel guilty for slowing down. You may feel pressure to do more. But walking by faith sometimes means choosing what looks like less—but actually draws you closer. 

Listening is not passive. It’s an act of trust. It says, “Lord, I need Your Word more than I need to prove myself.” 

Final Encouragement 

Jesus doesn’t scold Martha for serving. But He does invite her—and us—to something better. 

Before we lead, we must listen. Before we serve, we must sit. Before we bear fruit, we must remain connected to the vine. 

So take a cue from Mary. Slow down. Make space. Sit with your Bible open and your heart quiet. Let Jesus speak—and trust that His voice is worth more than anything you might try to achieve without it. 

Because walking by faith starts not with movement—but with stillness in His presence.